I Was in the Middle, Before I Knew That I Had Begun

He was not an ill-disposed young man, unless to be rather cold hearted
and rather selfish is to be ill-disposed: but he was, in general, well
respected; for he conducted himself with propriety in the discharge of
his ordinary duties. Had he married a more amiable woman, he might
have been made still more respectable than he was:--he might even have
been made amiable himself; for he was very young when he married, and
very fond of his wife. But Mrs. John Dashwood was a strong caricature
of himself;--more narrow-minded and selfish.

I'm supposed to be reading about the history of antebellum Virginia. I decided to split that time with a bit more Austen. This is about learning how to write from a master. It's also about how classic works bestow a kind of immortality. Awesome Jane has been dead for centuries, and there is something so intimate about her style. I feel like she's talking to me, and strangely enough, only to me. It really is kind of sick to say this, but I think I'm in love.

Here she is on the other Dashwoods:

Elinor, this eldest daughter, whose advice was so effectual, possessed
a strength of understanding, and coolness of judgment, which qualified
her, though only nineteen, to be the counsellor of her mother, and
enabled her frequently to counteract, to the advantage of them all,
that eagerness of mind in Mrs. Dashwood which must generally have led
to imprudence. She had an excellent heart;--her disposition was
affectionate, and her feelings were strong; but she knew how to govern
them: it was a knowledge which her mother had yet to learn; and which
one of her sisters had resolved never to be taught.

Marianne's abilities were, in many respects, quite equal to Elinor's.
She was sensible and clever; but eager in everything: her sorrows, her
joys, could have no moderation. She was generous, amiable,
interesting: she was everything but prudent. The resemblance between
her and her mother was strikingly great.
Elinor saw, with concern, the excess of her sister's sensibility; but
by Mrs. Dashwood it was valued and cherished. They encouraged each
other now in the violence of their affliction. The agony of grief
which overpowered them at first, was voluntarily renewed, was sought
for, was created again and again. They gave themselves up wholly to
their sorrow, seeking increase of wretchedness in every reflection that
could afford it, and resolved against ever admitting consolation in
future.

Elinor, too, was deeply afflicted; but still she could
struggle, she could exert herself. She could consult with her brother,
could receive her sister-in-law on her arrival, and treat her with
proper attention; and could strive to rouse her mother to similar
exertion, and encourage her to similar forbearance.

That riff toward the end--"The agony of grief overpowered them at first, was voluntarily renewed, was sought for, was created again and again"--is so cold.

I do believe were it not for the Civil War, I should be in some danger.